


High in Strength, Low in Luck

by honospalosa



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Explicit Language, Gaslighting, M/M, References to Addiction, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9347048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honospalosa/pseuds/honospalosa
Summary: scene!: After leaving Vault 101 to find his father, the Vault Dweller/Lone Wanderer (Varian, a dark skinned Asian man with half-shaved hair dyed a vibrant red, favors reinforced leather armor and large melee weapons, but that doesn't matter...yet) roams the Wasteland and after a few months hears an emergency broadcast that beckons him back. It's Amata, his old friend from the Vault. Something is wrong. After he dethrones her father from the position of Overseer she and a handful of their peers attempt to survive in the Vault. He returns there, and recalls Butch DeLoria. The Leader of the gang “The Tunnel Snakes” and someone he hadn't thought about in a long time. He used to bully the kids in the class in his gang. Only until Varian grows up to be bigger than him and threatens him does Butch stop and wonder what it would feel like to be in those arms of his. Varian thinks back to the last time the two of them were together and reflects on his loss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (may have messed up some details about the story-line in the game. Specficially when the Lone Wanderer returns to his original Vault, not sure if that's before or after the events at the Purifier. **possible spoilers if so**  
> ALSO this is my first ever fandom post, so please be gentle!  
> still deciding if this will be a series or a one-off sort of deal... is canon with another story I've written.  
> Edit: whoops, Made some minor canonical changes :)

That bastard. I even saved his drunk mother from those radroaches on that day. Those oversized fuckers were NOTHING compared to the things I'd seen out here. After Amata had contacted me I never thought I would have returned there, I had a small flicker of hope that he would be there. But he wasn't. After I'd left, they must've seen how easy it was to just escape like that.  
The “Tunnel Snakes.” HA! A fitting name for what he so desperately wanted from me and a clever way to name a stupid gang that lived in an underground bunker. I imagined them taking on a Yao Guai with nothing but their switchblades, their scrawny bodies swiped easily aside as the beast tore apart their pale Vault-Dwelling flesh from their bones.  
That was the reality of it. I'd become too cynical at my young age. That's probably not what happened, I was giving them too little credit. Something worse probably happened, there were humans with their wit and cruelty. But. The gang. They were rough too, I'd been fucked up plenty of times by them when I was younger. When I had grown into a bigger man like my father was when he had something else coming for him.  
Huh.. Interesting. I was secretly disheartened that he wasn't there.  
Butch DeLoria. You bastard.  
Alone in a bunk later I stared up at the empty rungs of the bunk bed above me wondering where he was. If he still wore the jacket with the print of the snake on it, if his hair smelled of wax and its perfect quiff falling over those inquisitive shining eyes. Those striking features, his short stubby fingers grasping the sheets and the sharpness of the breaths he took as I fucked him. I had to mentally shake myself, rehashing those days in the past would get me nowhere. The only place it would take me was the Wasteland Madness, I was trying really hard to stave off that inevitability.  
It was no use, I remembered the frantic look in his eyes when he'd begged me to help him with those bugs. The frantic look in his eyes every time I kissed him, pushed him against the wall and ripped open that jacket. Careful to take in the smell of his skin, every inch of that stupid fucking vault was explored but him? There was something new with him everytime.  
When I'd saved his mother he followed me, begged me not to go begged me to take him with me. He didn't understand. HE WAS DEAD, THEY KILLED HIM FOR KNOWING TOO MUCH. OUR FRIEND! My only friend...  
My father was on the run and he left me here to rot, what did he think would happen?  
I pushed away the emotion I felt as I saw the look in his eyes as he said, “Will I ever see you again?” So uncharacteristic of him.  
Which was saying a lot for me as I responded with a rough “No.” I shoved him aside in my anger and stalked out.  
I didn't dare look back, it was for the best right? I had to find my father, he would've gotten in the way.  
I drifted fitfully into a light sleep then.

\-------  
I was holding him down in front of me, he was bent over the side of the standard order couch. It's bland color and rough upholstery a standard item in every household; its curves reminiscent of a time I'd never known, “modern” as it was called. All that I cared about was that it was a perfect shape to hold a body over. It's sturdy construction helpful to what we were doing to it. He was gasping my name in short breaths, grinding his fleshy round ass into me. His face was pressed firmly into the couch cushion but I could hear him loud and clear, groaning and begging me for it. He had uttered something awful in his state and he was dearly paying for it. I was making sure of it.  
It made me angry.  
But that didn't mean I was going to stop. He deserved it.  
\-------

My eyes flew open at the memory. What he said wasn't true. I knew it wasn't. I knew she was dead. I knew she gave her life for mine. He was just being stupid, saying something to get a better rise out of me. It worked. But it was still a hurtful thing to say. I attacked him too, he wasn't fully to blame. God, that really was the last time and then I treated him like garbage later. I really was a piece of work... 

\-----  
We were fooling around in the abandoned classroom that had been sealed off. The door could be wrenched open and someone (bless them) had set up some cushions on the ground. Not that we expressly used them, they were just nice.  
We'd been going at it for awhile and it seemed to be going nowhere so, I thought I'd kick it up a little bit. He had pissed me off earlier in the day and I had been stewing all night about the miniscule little comment. I don'tremember what it was, something totally unrelated probably. I had so many awful things to retort back; he was being lazy underneath me and not reciprocating. I may have been being too rough with him but I didn't care. I took shots at him, at his mother at her addiction. He said nothing but tensed hard beneath me, I could tell I'd gotten to him by the way his jaw was clenching.  
“You're just like her B. I bet your father fucked her like this; mother like son. Just taking it, lying there doing nothing, it's no wonder he left!” I was out of breath, and as that left my mouth I realized I'd gone too far. He half gasped and shrieked as he attempted to get away from me. To yell and scream. I'd only turned his face so I could kiss him hard, his chin firmly in my grasp my tongue in his mouth. He softened, submissive in my hands again. I only continued, “is she proud of her baby boy?” he moaned and writhed under me, arching his back as I whispered into his ear, “is she proud of you B? Proud of her boy, all the professions and you choose to be a barber? Is she proud of you?” I'd cackled. He reached for me to scratch and claw as I'd kissed him hard again.  
As we came up for air he spluttered out in defense, “Ugh! Is that why you're always such an asshole? She's not really dead OWW is she? Ohgo- is she?!” I plowed into him hard and fast as he came and shivered under me. His breaths heaving, our breaths heaving.  
I laid on him breathing in the smell of the wax in his hair, our breathing syncing now. His slim body was hot to the touch but I was distracted now, I hadn't expected him to say that. Hadn't expected him to retaliate. Of course my mother was dead, why did he say that? I was playing. Why'd he have to go somewhere real with that?!  
He was trying to wriggle out from underneath me, I was still deep inside of him and I wasn't letting him go anywhere. It was amusing, too. Him getting angry with me. His eyes flashed, his breathing slowing but not letting up.  
“Get off, Varian.” he said, trying to stay calm and not panic.  
I ignored him and pulled him upwards towards me as I sat up, he whimpered but was still angry as I'd ran my hands up his stomach, to his chest and then to his cheek so I could kiss him. He pulled away angrily.  
“Stop it! You know, at least I do what I love! You're just...some... fucking puppet!” He'd pushed me backwards, I'd pulled out of him at that and he gasped in a hollow way. He was scrambling to find his jumpsuit and underwear. He was about to put his jacket back on as I'd asked,  
“What are you talking about?” I'd said, stupid as usual.  
He turned wildly, the quiff bobbing menacingly. His sweat had made it sag a little, he'd have to fix it.  
“You're just like your daddy, Daddy's Boy through and through. Just following orders in that fucking science lab, you'll fill his shoes and get ordered around just like him. How fulfilling is that? Who'll be the FUCKING ADDICT THEN VARIAN?!” He was frantically pulling his jumpsuit on, backwards. He shoved his shoes on his feet and wriggled out of the door leaving me naked, kneeling on the floor staring after him. That. Was a disaster.  
What the fuck was wrong with me.  
\-----

Recalling all of this was painful. I was always so full of regret, there was always a maddening amount of time to reflect on every wrong thing I'd done as I'd walked the Wasteland; it no wonder the Wasteland Madness got to so many of us.  
I'd. Ugh. I was a fucking Daddy's Boy. Where did it get me? I still hadn't found him. I ran back here, back to something familiar. Only to find nothing but conflict. When was it going to stop...  
The morning Jonas had been killed, my father's research destroyed and my father? Nowhere to be found. Fucking escaped. Amata had woken me up to warn me that I needed to run for it. No matter what I'd done to her when we were young, she still had my back. How had I been so lucky to find a friend like that?  
I'd killed my first man, a man that I'd known my whole life. He was...going to kill me. He was ready to kill me, I'd always wondered why he was always so awful to my father and I...  
Maybe one day I'd get my answers, if I didn't get some rest I'd never find them. I was going to let the good memories of Butch and I fill my dreams and in the morning I would find them. I would make change. I'd redeem myself.


End file.
